The Iron Game eBook

“Easy as rolling off a log.” The
hackman had taken him to the house where Jones was
lying. It was on the outskirts of the city toward
Acredale. He described the house. Kate knew
it very well. It was the property of her father.

“Did you see the patient?”

“No, indeed. You didn’t tell me to,
and I had nothing, to see him for. Ef you had
told me that you wanted I should see him, I’d
have seen him as easy as greased lightning.”

“Thank you. I am relieved of a great burden
through your kindness. You must permit me to
give you something to show my gratitude. Here,
use this money for some one who needs it, if you do
not need it yourself.”

“But I don’t need it. Here is what
you gave me this morning, ’cept a half-dollar
I spent in treating John. I couldn’t think
of taking so much money. It’s more’n
Uncle Sam allows me for five months’ pay.”

“No, I shall feel distressed if you do not accept
it. You can find use for it. It will bring
you luck, for it is the reward of a very important
service. Perhaps some time we may meet again,
and then you shall know how important.”

The tow hair stood up in wild dismay, and the blue
eyes were perfect saucepans, as Kate gently forced
the money into the big palm.

“Wall, I vum, miss, I feel like I was a-robbing
you, but ef yeou deu want I should take it, why I
will, and send it to my old mother, who will find
plenty o’ use for it. Good-by, miss.
Ef you should want me again, I’m at the hospital.
I shall be mitey tickled to do anything for yeou or
your brother.”

CHAPTER XXXI.

TWO BLADES OF THE SAME STEEL.

It was too late to follow up the discovery that night.
Kate, after a feverish rest, set out early in the
morning. She went first to Acredale, where she
could get her own equipage and driver. The tenants
of the house did not know her. She rang boldly
at the door, and when a maid answered, quite taken
aback by the girlish figure in deep black, Kate asked,
confidently:

“I want to see the sick man, Mr. Jones.”

“Yes’m, come right in. This way,
please, ma’am.” The girl led the way
up a flight of stairs, but if she had been part of
the balustrade Kate could not have been more immovable.
Whom was she about to see? Jack, wan, emaciated,
on the verge of the grave? They had said in Washington
that the journey would kill him; was it to that end
her relentless father had persisted in the removal?
Was she about to see the dying brought to death’s
door by her own flesh and blood? She reeled against
the stair-post and brought her veil over her face.
The girl had turned above and was waiting in wonder.
With a desperate gathering together of her relaxed
forces, she mounted the stairway. In the corridor
the girl turned to a closed doorway and knocked lightly.
There was no sound within; but the door swung open,
and Elisha Boone stood on the threshold. He did
not in the dim light observe the figure in black, but,
looking at the maid, said, softly: